thats it, we're moving. i spent this past week in mpls, scrounging about in places i know. i liked them. a lot. i am here now. i dont like it. a lot. i like my family, but they cant be my life. i like my theater group, but it is not my life. it is not daily varied activities. it is not biking to the hard times to read and drink really well prepared free trade organic coffee for a dollar. i like the racial discussion group but it is structured pushing discussions every other sunday. it is not random pushing discussions of constant nature. i like my job (well enough for what it is) but it is not changing anything. it is not going anywhere but possibly middle management. it is not what i want. i like my few friends, but our lives are about such different goals and psychosocial etc paradigms. nearly nothing here inspires me to create my own world, excites me enough to intrude and give my piece...to be my better self. to define the movement, as cliche as that sounds, to take and give experience and idea.
so then what? try very very hard not to mope about in the meanwhile as i've moped about previously. enjoy the delights and put into perspective the discouragements. save up some cash. find housing and employment in minneapolis. the big question now is - do we move into the housing co-op for the summer or do we not?
bad things: lots of energy spent moving to a place we will soon move out of. spending money on rent that we could save for moving.
good things: social advantage. getting to know the house. getting some experience with a co-op. living in space i dont feel embarassed about. feeling im earning my keep.
maybe i should ask ponge to decide about it. ponge. so the gig is up. he told me my breath smelled like smoke and asked me if i hadn't been smoking. after first saying no out of surprise and embarassment and then being unable to live with lying to him, i admitted to smoking at times when he wasnt around. and to purposefully keeping it from him so that i wouldnt really start smoking, since so much of my free time is spent with him. so he told me it was bad and i said i know. i told him essentially i've been addicted to cigs since i was 13 and while i quit for a year or two here and there, i have never been able to make it longer than that.
at first quitting takes all your strength and determination, and then after awhile the idea of smoking is fuckin gross. then after awhile longer something happens. like you are drunk and it smells good, or you are feeling bad about things and it seems like a way to respond, or you think you have mastered the art of occasional smoking and you take a drag or a cig from a friend.
but it slips, it ALWAYS slips back into real dependency, addiction. craving. mood swings. smoking when it doesnt really taste or feel that good anymore, when your lungs and throat hurt but you do it anyway.
he asked me, so what do you want to do? do you want to smoke or do you not want to smoke? i dont know. i guess both - i said, a part of me wants to quit and a part of me wants to smoke. i asked him if he was mad, he said no.
and i dont. i dont know what i want to do. i smoked a lot while i was in mpls...well i was drunk so often but i actually bought my own smokes, too, so as to avoid bumming them too much. i have like half a pack left of american spirits. which i havent had since...almost two years ago. damn. what a clusterfuck. one solution would be to join a gym or exercise program or just buy a pair of tennis shoes so that i can go running with ponge. cardiovascular exercise has helped me quit in previous episodes.
